


Needles and Pins

by candlejill



Series: Feed My Frankenstein [8]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drama, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: Carl starts to feel like they've reached the calm after the storm. But sunny skies don't last forever.Warning!Potential spoilers for the show. I've taken things from the comics which could possibly be spoilers for the show. Read at your own risk!





	1. Chapter 1

Negan had significantly dropped his attitude toward Carl after his time at the Sanctuary. Despite himself, Negan was making an effort with him. And if Carl was honest, it scared the hell out of him. Carl continued to be unsuccessful at ignoring the power Negan had over his people. While Negan escorted him around the Sanctuary, Carl felt all attention on them. The energy around Negan buzzed with an irresistible allure. Though he tried not to focus on it, Carl couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have so many people follow his every command. He failed at hiding how enticing the appeal of that was. Negan saw right through him. But he let it go, dropping what he could have used as ammunition against him. And Carl knew _why_ he was going easy on him.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew Negan was using his power to impress him. Carl was admittedly reluctant to admit how intoxicating living in the bubble around Negan was. Though he let a sigh of relief escape when Negan was called away. He’d spent too long in the land of Oz and it was time to return to Kansas.

Before he left, Carl tried to get any information he could from Negan about what happened at the outpost. It was useless. Negan knew he was fishing for information but he also understood that Carl had to try. He sent him back to Alexandria feeling an uncomfortable mixture of treachery and satisfaction. Carl was disappointed that he couldn't wait it out at the Sanctuary, but quickly ignored the feeling once he realized it.

When Carl walked into his house he wasn’t surprised to find it was empty. He hadn’t been gone long but he felt different being back in that house. He didn’t want his face to betray him, telling with one look that he was guilty of all the things Rick accused him of. At this point, it felt like too much had happened between him and Negan for him to bullshit his way out of it. He didn't have any convenient half truths to stick to. He wished like hell that Rick would leave it alone.

It surprised him when Rick didn't ask him a damn thing. Carl didn't know how or why the planets aligned in his favor, but he gladly took the win. 

* * *

 

Several days had passed before he overheard when the next drop was due. There seemed like an unnecessary amount of buzz around it which Carl hoped mean Negan would be coming. Carl’s stomach fluttered in knots at the idea of seeing him. They’d left on a weird, foreboding note. One that still made Carl uneasy. He knew he’d never be able to _trust_ him but an aching part of his stomach hoped that somehow he was wrong. It was asinine to yearn for something with substance with Negan, and Carl knew that. Their situation was impossible and Negan didn’t want that anyway.

But at the Sanctuary he sure as hell acted like he might.

Carl finally found himself wondering about what Negan was like with his wives. It was something he'd never allowed himself to consider before. But he wondered if Negan was able to create that singular feeling of significance with each of them. Or maybe Carl _did_ have something they didn’t. It was useless to dwell on it but his mind picked at the thought anyway.

The night before the Saviors expected arrival, Carl became very irritated. He didn’t even know if Negan would be coming and he refused to even mention his name around his dad. But the idea of Negan being there soon made his skin itch. Sleeping was difficult. Each time he closed his eyes he felt Negan pressing against his back. He felt the scratching reminder of his facial hair burning into his skin. There was a fever at the core of him that ached for another chance to get his hands on him. Another touch. _Anything_ Negan would give him, even though he knew how stupid the desire was.

While he laid in bed, willing sleep to overcome him, Carl began to hear scratching shuffling noises, rhythmic and only growing louder. At first, confused, he sat up listening intently waiting for cries of pain or help. When he heard Michonne laugh softly, realization hit.

Groaning, Carl fell back onto his bed and pushed his pillow against his face. A weak attempt to silence _any_ of the slightest sound coming from his dad’s room. He tried to ignore memories of himself sneaking into _that_ room. Holding a knife to Negan's throat, ready to kill the bastard. Now, he tried desperately to ignore the hushed tones from that room. Carl’s heart clenched realizing that what he and Negan had would never be that simple. But then he quickly berated himself for thinking he even had _anything_ with Negan.

After his time at the Sanctuary, Carl couldn’t stop thoughts of Negan from filtering through his mind. Anytime he had a moment to himself, he found a small smile at the corner of his lips. He knew it was stupid but at the very least it was _something_ that made him happy, even briefly. 

When he pulled the pillow from his head he was relieved to find the sounds from his dad’s room had quieted. Now he was only left with hushed giggles echoing down the hall.

A sharp jealous pang wrapped itself around his stomach. He never expected to have that. Not with _Negan_. But the sudden realization of how screwed he was still hit him hard. Carl held his eye closed tight and swallowed back the lump in his throat. He didn’t know when he suddenly wanted that. He shook his head and forced those thoughts from his mind.

He didn’t _want_ what Michonne and Rick had.

But he did want _something_. He just still wasn't sure what.

* * *

 “Jesus _fuckin’_ Christ! Seein’ that hat of yours _bobbin’_ around the woods gets my dick leakin’. I think you’re givin’ me a Pavlovian Complex with that shit,” Negan leaned back.

Carl scoffed as he turned to watch him approach. “What does that mean?” He asked. When Carl saw the Saviors approaching he had to leave. He suddenly felt like he needed air, so he went for a walk outside the walls. He never expected for Negan to track him down.

“It means _fuck all_ now,” he smiled stepping closer.

Carl smirked and shook his head.

“What it really means is when I see you I wanna get my dick wet. So why don’t you get on your _knees_ and get to work on that?” Negan took a step closer.

The now familiar smell of Negan was reminding him of everything he wanted. Trying to bite back his smile, Carl could hear the challenge in Negan’s voice. Waiting to see if he’d protest or do as he was ordered.

Choosing to surprise him, Carl dropped to his knees and began fumbling with Negan’s zipper.

"Really?" Laughing, Negan smiled down at him, “Shit. You’re going to be the end of me, you know that?”

Ignoring him, Carl reached in and grabbed his hand around Negan’s cock. Without waiting another second, he pulled Negan toward him and wrapped his lips tight around his dick, humming in satisfaction. Carl was learning that times like these would soon pass and he had to enjoy every second of the enveloping scent of Negan around him. His tongue swept heavily around his cock, finally feeling like he didn't need to rush. But Carl’s heart beat faster, demanding more of Negan for his mouth to savor.

Shivering, Carl felt Negan’s fingers slide through his hair. Negan’s fist tightened and Carl felt like he was drowning with only the sting of his scalp to keep him tethered to shore. He was living for these short moments with Negan, knowing he was a damn traitor for finding any consolation in the man.

It was easier when they were using each other, but Negan was right. It was so _much better_ when Carl let himself enjoy it.

So in that moment he gave in. Entirely. 

Every moan, and sigh, and curse Carl could elicit from Negan was all he needed. He continued to work his cock how he knew Negan liked. Before he had been rough, just enough pain to remind Negan that Carl didn’t give a fuck about him.

But he wasn’t doing it for weapons or medicine. He was doing it because he craved it. He _liked_ how Negan made him feel. He liked the power Negan had and he was done making himself miserable about it.

Carl ignored the throbbing reminder in his pants that Negan always seemed to give him. He was focused solely on Negan, for once, and it made his heart race faster and head spin harder.

The litany of profanity pouring out of Negan’s mouth and the telling hitch in his breath meant that he was close. And Carl was desperate to taste him.

With a final sigh and a breathy, “Fuck!” Negan came over his tongue.

Swallowing everything down, Carl licked gently at the overly sensitive skin before pulling off. Shaking. Trembling from his racing heart. He stood slowly and glanced up to face Negan.

He had an unusual look on his face, intense but relaxed. His eyes were on fire. Carl didn’t have a chance to react before Negan closed the space between them and walked Carl back against a tree. He began searching Carl’s mouth with his tongue. With Negan’s hands gripped tight on his hips, Carl thrust forward unintentionally, searching for anything that would relieve the tension.

But Negan ignored his dick and continued kissing him. Slowly and thoroughly, mapping every bit of his mouth. Carl could feel the traitorous burn behind his eye, threatening to drop a tear. Whenever Negan was tender and slow, Carl couldn’t help but be reminded that what they had could never come out. Hell, he still didn't even know if they _had_ anything. He would _never_ have what Rick and Michonne had. He could never laugh with Negan in the dark of the night knowing that they would return to the same bed at the end of every day. No kiss in passing without any intention of following through in the moment. No intertwining of fingers carelessly as they walked. Carl didn’t _want_ all that, but it made a lump form at the back of his throat to know that he’d never have anywhere near that kind of relationship with Negan. Not because of Negan, but because of Carl. He would never allow himself _that_ pleasure.    
  
He had to fight to swallow it back down.

Negan moved his hand over Carl’s zipper and reached in. Grabbing him firmly, Carl gasped in appreciation as Negan’s fingers wrapped around his dick. He had a way of making him constantly on edge. Emotionally. Physically. But he could never trust him. Carl would take whatever Negan would give and only give back a fraction of himself in return. It was just how it was. How it had to be. Carl knew that.

“Negan!” A voice far away near Alexandria called out toward their direction.

Negan stopped and pulled away from Carl.

No teasing smirk. No mocking remark. He looked sincerely annoyed at the disruption.

Carl could only stare back at him, wide eyed. Waiting for him to react.

The voice called again in the distance, growing closer.

Pushing Negan away gently, Carl tucked himself back in.

Negan, reluctant to move more than absolutely necessary, lifted his hand and adjusted Carl’s bandage carefully.

It was something he was starting to forget around Negan, which was no small feat. 

Clearing his throat, Negan finally stepped away from Carl. He closed his eyes and shook his head, visibly annoyed.

“You should-” Carl started, letting it hang in the air.

“Yeah,” Negan replied.

It unsettled him how un-Negan-like he was being. As he took a few steps away, Carl brushed out his clothes with his hands, feeling like it would get rid of any evidence left between them.

The voice called out again.

“Jesus fuck,” Negan shook his head, then ran his fingers through his hair a few times. “I’ll come get you later,” he said angrily as he turned to walk toward Alexandria.

“Wait, hold up,” Carl caught up to him.

They walked together, quietly, until they saw whoever was calling. Negan yelled at him and told him to go back and he was on his way, sending the guy running with his tail between his legs. It made Carl smile.

They continued to walk in relative silence. Alone. It was eerie for Carl to see Negan so silent. It put him on edge and made him nervous. He never expected to miss the constant vulgarity but he found himself wishing that would come back. At least it was familiar. He wasn't sure what had Negan in such deep thought.

The silence left too much room for Carl to think about how fucked up everything was between them. It had _always_ been fucked up between them but at least Carl had known where to draw the line. At this point, he was pretty sure both had thrown a grenade and skipped right over it.

With that thought and the uneasiness between them, Carl realized what he was feeling. He was _disappointed_. Upset that they’d been interrupted. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t gotten off, it was that he liked what Negan did to him. How he made him feel. Spending time with him. And now that time was cut short.

Before they reached the gates, or any prying eyes, Carl grabbed Negan’s wrist and pulled him from the main path. He pushed him away from sight, concealing them behind a tree.

“What the fu-”

Carl silenced Negan with his lips. Negan opened eagerly as Carl held his hips tight. Moving slowly, Negan nipped at Carl’s bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking gently before letting it go.

“Goddamn it, Carl,” Negan smiled against his lips.

Pulling him in again, Carl kissed him once more and broke away. “Don’t leave me waiting all night,” Carl threatened vaguely.

He turned away and with a big smile and walked toward Alexandria, leaving Negan behind hoping that maybe _he_ could have a _little_ of what his dad and Michonne had too.

As he approached closer to the gate, Carl stopped and watched what appeared to be a mess of chaos. His heart jumped with fear for the people in the community until he realized that only Negan’s men were rushing around. A wave of relief washed over him. He turned back to see Negan quickly passing him, enraged, he was shouting orders.

Carl stayed back and watched from a distance as Negan talked to his men. Whatever was going on clearly had not been in Negan’s plans. He pointed wildly and Carl saw the Saviors pack up their vehicles and turn around, getting ready to leave Alexandria.

Negan was still yelling at one of his men as he got into a truck and left with the others without even a second glance at Carl.

He had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to get a visit from him later.

A hand landed solidly on his shoulder, startling him out of his thought.  
  
“What the hell is going on, Dad?” Carl asked.

Rick squeezed his shoulder and let go. “Nothing good,” he replied. “Not for _them_ anyway.”

They watched the trucks drive off. Carl could sense that his dad knew what was happening.

“Come on, I need your help with something,” he said.   
  
With a lurching feeling in his stomach, he followed Rick. Carl asked quietly, “Do you know what’s going on?”

Rick looked at him before turning toward the front. “Yeah, I do,” he sounded disappointed.

“Well?” Carl asked impatiently. “ _What’s_ happening?”

“Carl, I need you to help me first, then I’ll tell you everything.”

“ _Everything?”_ Carl became angry. “What _else_ is there? What haven’t you told me? I told you I can help! I can-”

“You want to help?” Rick’s voice was becoming loud. He was visibly upset, irrationally more so than he had a right to be.

They reached the entrance of the jail cell.  
  
Rick pointed towards it. “I need you to test those bars. The lock. Everything. Anything you can think of to try to escape, you try it.”

“Why?” He asked but Rick didn’t answer.

They stood before the door, Carl shook his head but entered the cell. Reaching up he held tight to the bars on the window trying to dislodge any of them.

“Check the bottom to make sure nothin’s around the whole thing. Make sure there aren’t any screws or anything that can be used as a weapon.”

“Why the hell am I doing this?” Carl crouched down and ran his hand along the bottom of the wall. The cement was hard and the floor dusty. There was a cot with blankets against a wall. He lifted the mattress and looked under it to make sure there were no parts that could be used as a weapon.

Rick stood outside of the cell, with his arms crossed, “You’re doing this because I need someone I trust to check every inch of the place. If you can find a way out then it’s not done yet. And it _needs_ to be done.”

“I dunno, Dad. Seems pretty done to me.” Carl sat on the cot and looked back to Rick. “So _what_ the hell is going on?”

Rick ignored him and pulled out a set of keys, “I’m gonna lock you in now, okay? Try the lock. Make sure it’s sturdy. You have anything on you, you could try to pick it?"

Carl shook and head and waited for the door to swing closed, “Will you just _tell me_ already?”

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the small room. It almost made Carl jump. He walked to the door and pulled on it. “Are you putting Negan in here? Was that us that made them leave so fast?” He was angry now, “Answer me!”

Rick was clearly avoiding the subject. He slowly put the key back into his pocket. “Look, Carl,” he paused and placed his hands against the bar, balancing himself, pulling and trying to shake the bars loose then waited as Carl continued to try the door.

“Yes, that was us. Well, not _us_ , but one of the other communities.”

“You got the Hilltop to do that? What are they doing? Dad, Negan is going to kill them if he-”

“You’re right.” Rick lifted his head to look at him sharp. It made Carl’s stomach clench. “Negan _will_ kill them. And that doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to you, does it?”

Confused, Carl asked, “What are you talking about? Dad, we’ve been over this-”

“No, Carl. I’ve let you have your little plan. I let you keep Negan ‘tied around your little finger.’ And where the hell did that get us?”

“It got us guns, ammo, medicine! What else do you want?”

“I want Alexandria back. And _you_ should too.”

“I do!” Carl tried again to shake the door open. “Let me out of here!” He was angry and wanted to properly look at Rick for this conversation.

Rick leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Dad!” Carl was pissed. “Knock it off! Open the damn door!”

“I saw you, Carl,” he answered solemnly, “Out _there_. And what’s happening right now? It was _always_ going to happen today, and I _wanted_ you with us, but I just can’t trust you right now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” His heart stopped, suddenly fearing the worst.

“I _saw_ you. Out _there_ . Over the wall,” Rick’s forehead was furrowed in anger, “With _Negan_.”

Carl’s stomach sank. He tried not to panic but his face was turning red, “Dad, I can explain. I don’t know what you think-”  

“I _know_ what I saw!”

“Dad,” Carl’s voice was stuck in his throat. “ _What exactly_ did you see?” Wishing more than anything it was just the kiss.

“I saw enough. And seeing your mouth on his was almost enough for me to murder him right there, I swear to God, Carl.”

“Dad-”

“No,” Rick interrupted. “The only reason why I didn’t is because I don’t want the body count to be higher than it has to be. It’s not supposed to start _here._ It starts _out there_. But you can bet by the end of this he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“What are you doing? Tell me what you’re doing!”

“Right now, I’m waiting for Michonne. Goddamn it, Carl. _Why_ did you let him do that to you? I told you, I-”

“He didn’t _make_ me do anything!” Carl was surprised the truth slipped so easily from his lips.

Rick stared at him, with a lost look blanketed over his face, “You _know,_ I think _that’s_ worse.” Rick shook his head. “When I get back, hopefully none of this will matter. We can just pretend none of it ever happened. Michonne is the only other person who knows and after all of this is over we don’t ever have to talk about it again.”

“Let me out of here, goddamn it!”

“Rick?” Michonne called from outside the room.

“Tell him to let me out!” Carl yelled to her.

“I think we’re ready. Do you have everything set here?” She walked into the room, Dwight trailing behind.

“Michonne!” Carl hit the bar of the cell. “Get me the hell _out_ of here.”

Michonne looked nervously at Rick and then approached Carl, “This is just for a little while, okay? When we get back you’ll get out. I _promise_.”

“What the hell? Just take me with you!” Carl pleaded.

“The truck’s all set up,” Dwight said to Rick.

“Goddamn it, Dad! You trust _him_ but you don’t trust me? He’s a Savior! He’s one of _them_. I did what I did for us. Not for them.Not for... _him._ Not because-”

“I _don’t_ trust him, Carl. But you’re a target for _more_ than one reason and I’m not going to pretend like you’ve had the best judgement lately.” Turning away, Rick took a deep breath. “Look, it’s just easier with you here. We’ll be back. Maybe tonight. A few days tops. One of the girls from the Hilltop is going to be here with you so she’ll let you out if we’re not back. If you need anything-”

“I need to get the hell out!”

“She’ll get whatever you need and you can get out when we get back.” Rick walked away from him quickly with Michonne and Dwight tagging behind.

“Dad!” Carl yelled until his throat hurt. “Goddamn it!”

Carl began to pace back and forth in the small cell. He was in shock. He couldn’t believe his dad would do something like this. His gut hurt like a punch doubled him in two. Rick didn’t trust him. Everything Carl did, all of those meetings, every goddamn time he met up with Negan it was for _them._

His hands were shaking and he sat down on the lumpy bed trying to figure out exactly what he could do to escape. He didn’t give a shit what they did to Negan. Carl knew all along that either his dad or Negan would end up dead and between the two he voted for Negan to take the bullet.

But the traitorous part of his stomach jumped and the thought sat wrong in his mind. He tried to tell himself again and again that this was the best way. Rick obviously had been planning something for a long time and it hurt to know his dad didn’t trust him enough to include him. They _needed_ Carl. They should have anyway.

And to think that Michonne was in on it too. Carl brought his feet up on the bed and put his elbows on his knees. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to calm his breathing.

He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if his dad didn’t come back. If no one came back and he was just left there.

At that moment he heard someone clear their throat. He looked up quickly, standing and ready to fight.

“I’m Crystal,” she said dully, standing in front of the door. It was starting to get dark. She slipped pieces of food through the bars, letting bread fall to the floor.”

“Wait,” Carl called before she had a chance to go. “Let me out,” he asked quietly. “Please? My dad doesn’t know-”

“Look, I’m not letting you out, okay? You can save the speech. If your dad doesn’t get back, that’s a different story. Otherwise you and I are sitting this one out.”

“Do you know what they’re doing?” Carl asked walking closer to the bars.

Crystal pursed her lips annoyed, then answered, “Your dad and a few of the other communities, they set a trap for him.”

“What?”

“We’re fighting back. Finally.”

“If _we’re_ fighting back _we_ should be there!”

“Not gonna happen.”

Frustrated, Carl asked, “What did my dad tell you? _Why_ do you think you need to keep me in here?”

“He’s worried about Negan using you against him. He said he can lose everyone else to this but he can’t lose you. Sweet huh?” She added sarcastically.

Carl scoffed, “He’s full of shit.”

“Yeah, well, either way you’re not getting out.” She turned and left the room.

Exasperated, Carl laid down on the cot. He could tell it was getting darker outside. He didn’t know what the hell just happened. He tried to will thoughts of whatever his dad had planned for Negan to leave his mind. Carl was shaking with anger. And worry.  

A few hours passed that felt like days. It seemed like he had been laying down forever before the loud explosion went off.

“What the hell was that?” He sat up abruptly, calling out to anyone nearby.

Crystal came running back into the room. With her arm through the door, she handed Carl a gun.

“What’s going on?”

“Party moved a little closer to home than originally planned,” Crystal shut the main door and stood back, aiming and ready to fire at anyone who opened it.

Carl looked at the gun in his hand, “Are you going to let me out now? We shouldn’t be _in here_ hiding! We need to be out there. We have to help them!”

“No,” Crystal said resolutely. “And you can aim that gun at me, you can threaten to kill me all you want, but all that means is that you’ll be _stuck_ in that _locked_ cell and I’ll be _out_ here, dead, with the key.”

Gunshots were fired in the distance. Carl instantly moved and slid the cot underneath the window. He climbed up and looked out to see a few people running. It was too dark to make anything out.

“Don’t worry. Your dad had a contingency plan.”

“They can’t defeat the Saviors with only a few people from the Hilltop! They _need_ us.”

“Rick didn’t tell you? It’s not just the Hilltop. He got help from a few other communities too. It’s a _good_ plan, Carl. And I’m not messing it up by letting you out so you can turn into bait and shut the whole thing down.”

“Goddamn it!” Carl swore, kicking the bed frame. He looked out the window again, helplessly trying his best to make out details. He held the gun firmly in his hand, ready at his side. He was beyond furious at the idea that Rick hid all of this from him. Carl wasn't even sure which other communities Crystal was talking about.

The shots from outside seemed to quiet down. Carl’s heart was racing, not sure if it was good or bad that everything had suddenly grown so quiet. He could make out vague yelling, swearing, and a few more lone gun shots.

“Can you just- Please, just look out there! Can you see if my dad-”

Crystal narrowed her eyes but nodded at Carl. She pulled the door open slowly, then stuck her head out farther. Carl saw her disappear behind the door. He tried his best not to panic. Not to dwell on the fact that he was left alone, locked in a cage and nearly helpless. He had his gun but it wouldn’t be much good against starvation.

The door creaked open and he saw Crystal again.

“He’s fine, okay. Just a little beat up. I’m going to talk to him.”

“Wait!” Carl called as she ran out. “Get me the hell out!” He yelled again through the bars.

Carl’s heart raced as he ran over to the bed to try again and look out the window. He tried not to panic but he was still locked in a goddamn cell. At least he had a gun but that wouldn’t do much good if anyone came in and really decided they didn’t want him to be alive. He tried to calm his breathing.

“Come on, come on,” the soft mantra broke the silence of the room.

He heard another shot and a few screams. Just has he jumped off the bed and was about to shoot out the window (for attention or destruction, he wasn’t sure which) Carl heard laughter.

He paused lowering the gun.

His hands were shaking waiting for any kind of news. Crystal said Rick was fine and he wanted to believe her, but he’d have to see for himself.

Swallowing nervously, he tried to ignore his mind wandering to thoughts of Negan. If his dad was okay then that meant Negan wasn’t. Focusing on his breathing, Carl tried to listen to any noise outside. Anything that would give him a clue of what was going on. It was late, so late, and all he could think was that he needed to know what had happened. He needed to get out. He needed to _see._ Carl _had_ to know what happened.

The door opened and he walked quickly to the bars.

“Dad?” His heart raced. “What the hell happened?”

Blood trailed down Rick’s face but he was smiling. For the first time in a long time Carl saw a look of happiness across his dad’s face. A huge sense of relief washed over him, knowing he was safe.

But the lump was quickly back in his throat. He couldn’t help himself when he asked, “What happened to Negan?”

Rick dropped his smile and walked closer to the cell door. “Did you test out the lock like I asked? I’m assuming since you’re still in here that’s a ‘yes’?”

“Dad,” Carl pleaded. “Can you just let me out now? What the hell happened?”

“Carl,” Rick turned his head and shook it, “We did it. We _got_ Negan.”

His heart dropped. The moment seemed to stand still and he was hyper aware that his dad was waiting for a reaction. Quickly he asked, “You killed him?”

Rick stared back at him in silence.

Choking back the lump in his throat, Carl nodded his head, “Good.”

“ _Is_ it?” Rick asked skeptically.

Remembering he was still locked in the cell he hit the bar, “Goddamn it, let me out!”

“You gonna be okay?” Rick asked, slowly approaching the door, pulling the key out of his pocket.

“Yes! Negan killed Glenn! He killed Abraham. Olivia. Denise. How many more people do you need me to list that he was responsible for killing? I’m glad you did it! Now let me out.”

“You sure you tested those bars out? I told you I needed you-”

“Yes! Dad, forget about the stupid bars! If I could get out don’t you think I would have been running after to help you? Kill Negan myself?”

Rick stuck the key inside the hole and turned it, “Okay.”

Carl was tense, and angry. Beyond exhausted. He didn’t even want to know what happened anymore, he only wanted to go home. Crawl into bed. When Rick opened the main door to finally leave that goddamn jail, Carl saw Negan standing behind it. Very much alive. His hands were wrapped up in rope and he had a gag in his mouth.

His eyes were narrowed and seething at Carl. He had blood dripping from a cut on his temple and his hair was disheveled.

“What-” Carl asked, shocked.

Rick smiled, “We _got_ him. See. I had a reason I needed you to test the cell.”

Carl stepped back into the room as two men ushered Negan in. They walked him into the cell where one stepped away and drew his gun on him.

“You try anything and I’ll blow your dick off,” he said.

Rick lifted his own gun and pointed it toward Negan. Carl hesitated then followed suit.

They untied him without incident and backed out of the cell where Rick locked it quickly behind them.

Negan tugged at the gag around his mouth. He rubbed his jaw and stared directly at Rick. There was a fire in his eyes and it made Carl shiver. Realizing he still had his gun drawn, he let his arm fall to the side.

“Go get Michonne and let her know where I am,” Rick instructed one of the men.

“You want one of us to stay?” The other asked asked.

Negan smiled sarcastically, “Yeah _Rick_. More the merrier, right?”

Ignoring Negan, Rick replied, “No, I need you to go get Maggie and bring her here.”

When they left, Carl took a step closer to his dad. Negan was ignoring Carl, currently smirking at Rick.

“What are you going to do?” Carl asked his dad.

Negan laughed, “You know, the _last_ time I heard your little boy ask that question I was deciding whether I wanted to fuck open his eager little asshole or ram my perfectly adequately sized dick down his throat. You have one _greedy_ little come slut of a son, Rick.”  
  
“Shut up,” Carl interrupted, stepping closer to the cell. Carl was in mild shock, not quite believing that Negan had just said that. He shook with anger and ignored the pang of betrayal in his chest. 

Negan was still ignoring him, choosing instead to continue to stare at Rick.

“Dad, he’s lying. That-”

“He _knows_ I’m not lying, Carl” Negan replied calm, still refusing to look at Rick. “He’s known _all along_ how much you love taking my prick. Well here’s something you didn’t know, Rick. Carl likes it _best_ when I _lick_ his goddamn asshole after I’m done _drillin’_ into him. Fucking gross, right? But the _way_ he fuckin’ moans my name when I’m eating the come out of his ass makes it all worth it. He’s a sick fuckin’ bastard.” Negan smiled, “Hey, Carl, you remember that time you begged me to fuck you open on Daddy’s bed? Maybe _you_ remember, Rick? You didn’t seem too happy walking in-”

“Shut the hell up,” Carl took a step toward him.

Rick grabbed his shoulder and held him back. Carl was too angry and embarrassed to look at his dad. The way his heart pounded hard, his chest couldn’t take it. He wanted to shut Negan the hell up. However he needed to was okay by Carl.

Lifting his gun he pointed it toward Negan.

Finally turning to Carl, Negan asked, “ _Did_ we fuck around with a _gun_ yet? Oh, that’s right. The _first_ time you begged me to fuck orgasms into you, you held me at gunpoint and sat on my dick. I didn’t even touch you but you rode me _hard_ , Carl. I had bruises for days. 

“Dad,” Carl said desperately. “That’s not-” he took a step closer, aiming the gun at Negan’s head.

“You didn’t have the _balls_ to pull the trigger before, what makes you think you can now?” Negan asked, now showing some of his anger.

Carl felt his finger twitch against the trigger. He just had to squeeze, just once, and it would be over. They could move on. All he had to do was-

“Stop,” Rick reached out to his arm, forcing him to lower the gun.

“What the hell? _Why_ aren’t you killing him?” Carl demanded.

Rick pulled Carl back from the cell door, “Because he’s right about one thing.”

“How tight your son’s little asshole is?”

“I swear to God-” Carl tried again to get closer to the cell, but Rick held him back.

“We need rules. We _need_ punishments. And Negan _is_ going to get his.”

“You can leave Carl here with me. He’s pretty fucking good handing out punishments,” Negan smiled, “Always knows just how to make me ache.”

“Shut the hell up!” Carl was shaking. He didn’t know why Negan was targeting him. A half a day ago Carl’s lips were wrapped around his cock and he couldn’t think of a better place to be. He was a fucking idiot to think for even a second that Negan might have had some kind of real affection towards him.

“Carl, just go. Go get some sleep,” Rick turned to him.

Carl eyed Negan carefully. He didn’t know what all Negan would tell him but his heart sank to his stomach. He never wanted Rick to find out. He was _never_ supposed to. “Dad, I-” Carl shook his head. “Don’t believe _one_ goddamn thing he says!”

He walked out of the room to Negan calling after him, “What, so, I’m just your _dirty_ little secret? That hurts, Carl!”

Trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and Negan he walked toward his house. The events of the last twenty four hours had his head reeling. It was hard to believe he had started his day _excited_ to see Negan. Then actually felt bad for his implied death until Carl wanted to be the one that caused it.

Everything was fucked.  
  
Carl walked up the steps and slammed the door to the house. He punched the wall. Shaking his hand in pain, he winced as he walked to the couch and collapsed.


	2. Chapter 2

“Shit!”

Carl ran over to where Tara had dropped her tray. “Here let me- Hey, you’re bleeding,” Carl noticed the thick blood pooling in the palm of her hand.

“God damnit!” Her hand trembled as she held it up to examine the damage.

“Are you okay?” Carl asked, picking up the tray and food that fell to the ground. Luckily, after brushing off a little dirt, nothing was ruined, not that anyone actually cared about that anymore.

Wincing she said, “Yeah. I’m so stupid. I tripped and then my knife must have sliced my palm.”

Holding the tray, Carl said, “You should probably go get that cleaned up.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Look can you run that to the cell quick?”

“What?” Carl’s heart stopped as he paused sharply. 

“I’m supposed to bring it to His Royal Asshole. Just slide it through the bars. You have to watch him to make sure he’s not going to do anything. It won’t take me long.”

Carl stood, slightly shocked as Tara quickly walked away. 

He hadn’t seen Negan in over two months. Partly due to Rick telling him to stay away but mostly because he never wanted to see him ever again, despite being annoyingly relieved that Rick didn’t kill him.

The decision to lock Negan up was one filled with controversy among everyone in the communities. Rick said that they needed to keep him as an example so others would know that there would be consequences for their actions. Most of the people thought death was a pretty fair consequence, but Rick was trying to establish a different kind of future. One where they didn’t let go of their humanity. He was trying to prove that it could be done differently. Better. And keeping Negan in a cage was that proof.

Carl couldn’t imagine how strong Rick was to stick to that decision. He  _ knew _ how much his dad wanted Negan dead. And even though Carl still thought Negan was the biggest asshole he knew, he was reluctantly mollified by his continued existence.

After the blow up in the jail cell with Negan cruelly spewing foul descriptive taunts at Rick, Carl never wanted to leave his bedroom. He fixated for hours about what he was going to try to tell his dad. How he was going to convince him Negan was lying. In the end, Rick was the one to smooth it over. 

The only thing he ever said to Carl about it was,  _ What was done is done. _ It didn’t matter anymore so there was no point discussing it. Carl had never been so grateful to Rick in his whole life.

Rick’s generosity of forgiveness was what made Carl feel the most guilt over the entire ordeal. He swore to himself he wouldn’t go near the jail, which Rick seemed to appreciate.

Truth be told, he didn’t  _ want _ to.

He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised, but the pain and anger he felt after Negan said those things to Rick shook him to the core. It was easy to go two months without seeing him. Even if keeping him off his mind was more difficult.

So now, when he approached the jail, walked past the guards of the main door, and stood ready to enter the room, Carl took a deep breath. He hadn’t allowed himself to wonder what Negan would look like behind that door. And now he’d be face to face with him.

Shaking his head, he opened it and stepped into the room.

Carl didn’t see him at first. Negan was sitting with his knees bent on the bed, elbows resting on them.     
  
“About fucking time!” Negan shuffled off the bed.

With his head lowered, Carl was apprehensive as he got closer to the door. 

“Well,  _ shit, _ ” Negan said in surprise. “I was wondering when you’d grace me with your presence.”

Carl lifted his head with his face masked in discontentment. He shoved the food through the bars, letting it drop before Negan had a chance to take it from him. 

Negan chuckled but didn’t move. He stood at the door and watched Carl carefully as he turned around to sit on the other side of the room. As far from Negan as he could get while still watching him.

He pretended not to notice that instead of short stubble Negan now had nearly a full beard. His hair had grown a little too, but it wasn’t as noticeable since it was slicked back. He looked tired, bone tired. There was more grey in his beard showing his age. 

“Did you miss me?” He asked sarcastically, grinning wide.

Carl scoffed, glaring at him. His stomach jumped at the full force of his smile but he held his irritated stare, eye Negan carefully.

“Aww, Carl. I  _ missed _ you,” Negan sauntered closer to the door. Putting his hand around one of the bars he said, “Fuck man. Sorry about all that shit I said to Rick.”

It was sincere and not at all what Carl expected. He narrowed his eye, trying to figure out Negan’s angle.

“Though, to be honest, I thought I was going to fuckin’ die. So throwing in a few more fuckin’ psychological punches was completely fucking fair on  _ my side _ of the bars. And it’s not like  _ you _ were jumping in to save my goddamn life, not with that gun aimed at my skull. If anyone has a right to be bitchy it should be me.”

Carl turned away, uninterested in his version of an apology.

“Hell, kid. I’m not going to eat until you talk to me. You hangin’ out in this goddamn jail is the most entertainment I’ve had in weeks. Why would I _want_ you to leave before catching up? Least you can do is throw me a few,  _ ‘Fuck you, Negan!’ _ s.” He raised his middle finger for dramatic effect. 

Carl shook his head in annoyance, but didn’t respond.

“Maybe after that I could give  _ you _ a couple ‘fuck yous,'” he smiled suggestively bringing his index finger up next to his middle one. He wiggled them around teasingly.

“Jesus Christ,” Carl stood up and turned away in disgust. His heart was racing. He suddenly felt that deciding never to come to the jail was the right call.

Negan laughed behind him, “I’m just fuckin’ with you. Calm down. I forgot how much fun it was to rile you up. If you’re going to stay a while, might as well make a little small talk.”

“I’m leaving the second Tara gets here.”

“He speaks! I was starting to think you had some kind of fuck up that caused you to lose your tongue now too. And, Carl, I remember that tongue. That is one  _ talented  _ tongue. I’m relieved-”

“ _ God _ , just shut the hell up!” Carl demanded. 

He took a step closer to really look into Negan’s eyes. As battered and defeated as he looked, Carl still saw that same spark behind them. The daring stare that made his heart pound and blood rush. Made him want to do terrible, reckless things, and with Negan looking at him like that, he knew he just might.

Carl calmed himself down, inhaling deep to slow his breaths.

Negan licked his lips and lifted his eyebrows, “You can’t hide  _ that _ from me, Carl. I think you’re a bit past hiding it from  _ yourself _ too.”

Closing his eye, Carl shook his head, “Just eat your damn food, then I’ll never have to see you again.”

Negan’s smile dropped. He furrowed his brow studying Carl carefully, eyes roaming over his face. 

For a fraction of a second Carl regretted saying it. 

Shifting his hips, he leaned closer. Negan brought his arm over his head and held it against the bars propping himself up. It felt abnormally intimate, but then Carl realized he had managed to step closer to the door as well.

“You know, I’m just  _ not _ feeling hungry for  _ stale _ bread. But if you whip that little dick of yours out, I will suck  _ every _ last backed up drop of jizz out of you.”

Carl swallowed hard but kept his eye contact. Negan thought he’d be able to provoke him, but at this point Carl was just disappointed. He hadn’t known what he had expected to happen with Negan, but the last time he was with him in the woods Carl felt something else besides his fucked up lust for the man. 

But things weren’t like the last time in the woods anymore. 

He had no intention of getting off with Negan in the small jail. 

And it seemed that his resolve had finally hit Negan. He pushed off the bars and backed away. Carl didn’t say anything. They both took a moment to take each other in. To really let the situation sink into them, where Carl could appreciate how disappointing it was that he had slipped right in next to Negan's side. He'd done it all under the guise of protection. Safety. _Leverage._ But seeing where they stood now, Carl could admit he did it for himself too. The first time he'd ever laid a roaming finger on Negan, he'd wanted it for himself. A costly damnation, but if he could get something out of it to help someone else then maybe he'd make it out in one piece.  
  
He'd never dropped the guilt. He had berated himself constantly, and still was. It was the only solace Carl found while with him. And being near Negan was an exquisite form of self-flagellation. One he wished he could have resisted, but the call of that fucked up covenant had been too strong. Negan had a hollowed out place in the core of him despite all protests for him to stop.

Staring at him across the room was the first time Carl could see him for who he was. Not the power. Not even a slight illusion of authority over him. Negan was there, watching him, truly seeing him just like he always had.  

A creaking door began to open behind Carl. He turned to see Tara walking in with a bandage tied tight around her hand.

“Thanks Carl,” she smiled.

Carl nodded. He took one last considering look at Negan then turned and walked out of the room.

 

* * *

Every day Carl stayed away from Negan’s cell he counted it a victory. It was no small feat to ignore the covetous pull closer to that room. He was restless and angry. No one else but Negan could understand why. Hell, Carl himself wasn’t even sure. He just knew that he had allowed himself a silver of happiness but then it was all taken away.

It’s not like he  _ wanted _ Negan to be free. Rick was right, and he knew it. Carl knew his dad was going easy on him even. But he couldn't help having the same thoughts as the others. If Negan was dead they could have peace. _He'd_ have peace. Carl would be forced to move the hell on. 

Keeping Negan locked out of his sight was a small consolation, but it didn’t save Carl from the uneasy pangs of disappointment knowing he’d never have one of those rendezvous again. 

At the time Negan said he’d blow him right there, Carl was too busy mourning his existence to consider it. But now that the idea was planted in his head he couldn’t get it off his mind. 

He imagined it every way he could. Handcuffing Negan to the bars on the door before making him take his dick. Or handcuffing him to the bed so Carl could trust him enough to ride him in that room. 

Carl didn’t pretend like he didn’t want it. He wasn’t going to lie to himself anymore. So each day he stayed as far away from Negan as he could. And each day it was more difficult. 

Until, finally, he had a reason. 

One of the men from the Hilltop that end up moving into Alexandria after the fight had taken over the main duty of guarding Negan’s cell. There were several others who’d rotate in shifts but Kal was generally in charge. 

He had specifically gone looking for Carl. Rick was away visiting another community which meant much of the responsibility landed on him. Carl knew Kal could have found someone else for the shift, but his curiosity finally won and he agreed to do it.

He only had to sit outside the main door and check occasionally through the window. Carl knew the routine. And for a while he did. He waited, stealing glances into the cell. Negan moved from lying on the bed to pacing the floor to sit ups and push ups. Carl was fascinated to see the way his muscles worked under the thin clothes he was given. 

Eventually it was time for supper. One of the girls dropped it off with Carl. He knew he’d have to face him eventually, so taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked into the small jail.

As he looked up nervously between the hair falling in his face, he heard Negan whistle at him.

Laughing, Negan said, “I  _ knew  _ you’d be back.” His smile was wide and Carl knew he’d be useless against his charm. 

But still, he said nothing. He slid the food through the bars but Negan ignored it. Turning around, Carl walked to the other side of the room and sat, waiting for Negan to begin eating.    
  
“Carl! Come on! What the hell?”

Taking a deep breath, Carl watched Negan at the bars. He seemed honestly upset. 

“Look, I’m not asking you for a fucking knife or a  _ gun _ . Just a little goddamn conversation. Don’t you think you at least owe me that?”

“I don’t owe you shit, Negan.”

He laughed, “No, I  _ suppose _ you don’t. I just thought it might be fair play seeing as how I let  _ you _ break the rules all the damn time.” 

Rolling his eye, Carl turned away and refused to look at Negan. After a few moments, he heard Negan start to pace back and forth in the cell. Then the bed squeaked. He looked back to see Negan laying on his back, staring intently at the ceiling.

“You get laid lately?”

“What?” Carl answered unexpectedly.   
  
“Just wondering if anyone is tappin’ that ass. Should I be jealous? Or are  _ you _ tapping ass now?”

Carl’s breath hitched as he watched Negan reach his hand into his pants. 

“You find some nice, young, respectable lady and learn to treat her right? Shit, without porn or the fucking internet, have you learned  _ anything _ about how to get them off? Anyone ever teach you how to eat them out? Where the clit is?”

“ _ No!” _ Carl said suddenly. “I mean,  _ shut up! _ God. You’re disgusting.”

Negan chuckled.  

Carl watched, wide eyed. Negan was stroking himself hard in his pants. It had been a long time since he’d gotten off with anything but his own hand. Despite how much he wanted to, he didn't give in, but it was damn hard to resist. 

“You know, I kept wishing you’d come visit,” he smirked. “Couldn’t wait to see that hat bob in my direction. Figured you’d be the only groupie who’d be able to drop by.”

Suddenly angry, Carl jumped up and walked over to the door to the cell, “I’m  _ not _ one of your damn, groupies, Negan. Jesus. The  _ only _ reason why I’m here is because, guess what? I’m  _ second _ in command now. And it’s  _ my _ responsibility to make sure you stay where you’re goddamn supposed to. And if you’re not hungry? Fine. I can take it away. Oh, and your  _ shit bucket? _  Would you like to keep that little _luxury_ too? Because it doesn’t have to stay where it’s at.”

Negan removed his hand and sat up, smiling at Carl, “You’re fuckin’ adorable.”

“Can you just,  _ please, _ shut the hell up? You want me to beg? I’m begging. What is it going to take for you to keep your damn mouth closed?”

Smiling wide, Negan stood and walked over to the bars. His clothes did little to hide his erection, but Carl ignored it. 

“You put that dick of yours in my mouth, pretty sure that’ll shut me right the fuck up.”

Carl’s heart began to race. His chest grew tight and he couldn’t swallow. Wishing he had never started anything with Negan, he wanted to walk out. He wanted to turn and leave and never come back. 

“Come on, Carl,” Negan’s dimples shone bright. “I’m sorry, okay? It was fucked up what I said to Rick. But you have to have a little perspective here, I thought he was going to put a fucking bullet through my skull. How can I make it up to you? You have some handcuffs floating around somewhere I’m sure. Fuck, use rope. I  _ know _ how much you got off _tying_ me up before.” 

Negan lifted his arm to lean against the bar. He was close enough that Carl could smell his familiar scent. One he’d been pretending not to miss.

Negan looked down at him and licked his bottom lip. Smiling deviously, he asked, “You want to fuck me in the ass?”

In his chest, Carl’s heart was pounding hard. Negan was serious. Carl didn’t have any lube on him, but he mentally berated himself for how quickly his mind was jumping at the thought. And Negan saw it too.

“Come on, kid. I went from getting laid several goddamn times a day to stopping cold turkey. My wrist is getting carpal tunnel here.”

Swallowing nervously, Carl didn’t want to give in. Negan was manipulating him, and he knew it. But there was that slight disturbing part deep in his stomach that was  _ aching _ to give him whatever he wanted. For Carl to _t_ _ ake _ whatever he wanted. 

“I  _ missed _ you,” Negan said, softly and without any humor.

“Don’t,” Carl pleaded, turning his head away.

“Carl, I’m talking a lot of shit here, alright? I get that I don’t exactly have much leverage. But I’m not lying about that.” 

Carl startled as he felt Negan’s hand reach through the bars and turn his chin back, forcing him to look at Negan. He knew he should back the hell away. He should never have gotten so close or let his guard down. Negan  _ had _ him. But he didn’t do anything other than cup his jaw and rub the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip, before pulling his hand back into his side of the cell.

“I can’t,” Carl finally said, meeting Negan’s eyes.

“Yes. You  _ can. _ ” 

Carl could feel his breath whisp over his face. He hadn’t realized he’d gotten so close to the bars. This time when Carl felt Negan’s hand reach out it was to tug at his belt and pull him closer to the bars. Negan’s hand quickly worked to rub the front of Carl’s jeans.

Carl closed his eyes and with his heart pounding hard, he gave in. 

Negan fell to his knees and pulled Carl’s hips, fumbling now frantically with his zipper until he reached in and finally wrapped his fist around Carl’s cock. 

Whimpering in surprise, Carl pushed his hips closer without thought, as far as they’d go against the bar. Negan stroked him with intent. Carl wasn’t prepared for the warmth of Negan’s mouth to wrap around him. He exhaled hard dropping his mouth, pushing his forehead into the cold bars he rocked into the slick heat around his prick. Pushing the warning, racing thoughts from his mind, he focused on Negan’s tongue slicking over the tip of his cock. 

When one of Negan’s hands roamed and began massaging his balls, Carl grabbed on tight to the cool metal. Holding himself up in fear of his legs buckling, waves of heat pulsated through his veins leading straight to his dick. It seemed like it had been so fucking long and Negan’s mouth was so fucking tight around him. 

Waking from his daze, Carl lowered one of his hands and reached it through the cell to grasp at the back of Negan’s head. His fingers slipped through Negan’s soft locks, then wrapping his fist tight in his hair, he forced Negan to take him fully. 

Holding him tight against him, Carl sighed as his body began to tremble. An itching wave began to wash over him but he held steadily to the moment. Savoring Negan’s lips wrapped around him. Swollen and throbbing, Carl shuddered into Negan’s mouth, coming in pulsating waves, wanting more than ever to collapse into Negan’s arms. 

But the cold metal between them quickly reminded him of where they were. 

Negan licked tenderly along his overly sensitive skin causing him to shiver. When he had the courage to open his eye he saw Negan looking back up at him. Watching him closely, panting in quiet breaths in time with Carl. 

It was so quiet in the small jail, Carl couldn’t move. He didn’t want to disrupt the silence. 

Negan stood, a small smile played at the corner of his lips. 

Carl knew he should take a step back, but he missed Negan. As fucked up as it was, he missed this. If he had any common sense remaining he’d bolt away as fast as he could. Then again, none of it would have happened in the first place if he’d had common sense.

Leaving his reverie, Carl clear his throat and turned away to tuck himself back in, “What, do you expect a book or something for that? Dessert? I’m sure as hell not giving you a gun.”

Negan laughed softly, “I think that  _ was _ my fucking dessert.”

Carl blushed hard and fought the urge to turn away, “Look, I can’t bring you anything, okay? They’d notice.”

“Thought you were _second in command?_ Doesn’t that mean you’re wearing your big boy pants now? Making all the damn rules?” 

“ _What_ do you want?” Carl took a step away, eyeing him suspiciously. He didn’t know why he was even entertaining the idea, but Negan  _ had _ given him special treatment before. And for a while that had been enough to make his life better, even slightly so. 

“Come back and visit me,” he smiled wide. 

It frustrated him how much Carl loved seeing Negan’s eyes light up like that. For  _ him. _

“That’s  _ it _ ?” He questioned suspiciously.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to you opening the fucking door and letting me waltz my ass on out of here. But I figure that might be a little much, so yeah. Come back. Maybe bring some rope. Have any handcuffs laying around? Maybe next time you can fuck my ass into the mattress?” 

“Why?” 

“You fuckin’ suck at this, kid.”

Exasperated, Carl shook his head, “No, why the sudden interest for me to stick my dick in your ass? It’s not like you were offering that up before.”

Smiling, Negan replied, “ _ Shit _ , kid. That went  _ straight _ to my prick. Keep talking like that and I’ll drop my pants right the hell now. You’re young. I _know_ you got another one in you.”

“Negan,” Carl chastised. 

“Look,” he replied seriously, “For this to work you have to tie me up, I know you have all the control here. And I am  _ so  _ fuckin’ willing to give you _ whatever _ the hell that perverted little mind of yours wants. I haven’t gotten laid in weeks. I don’t care how I get it, if there’s a chance to finally get or  _ give  _ some ass, count me the hell in.”

Carl couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. It’s not like he’d be doing anything worse than before. Actually, for him the situation had improved considerably. At the very least he didn’t have to worry about what Negan would do to hurt the people he cared about. 

He reluctantly sighed, “I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah, I just bet you will,” Negan leered, smiling suggestively.

Ignoring the food on the ground, Carl turned and left the cell. 

He could just as easily guard him from the other side of the door and he needed time away from Negan to think. 

 


End file.
